Colors of the Wind
by Clockwork Night
Summary: Young Native America hears stories about the pale-faces that invaded his land. His people want to kill them, but America wants to prove that they are not evil demons. So he goes to prove they are not savages, but things happen along his way. -a twist on how they met and those difficulties. England and Native!America
1. Chapter 1

**I think this would be a cool way for England and America to meet. I was watching Pocahontas, then listening to Native American music while writing this. **

**Flames are okay, but be warned, I'm writing this at 12 at night and while watching Disney. Don't judge me. The names, besides America and the other countries are Native American Names. All the Native words are from different languages, so I'll put the tribe along with the meaning. They all have * on it. **

**I own nothing!  
-Devit-**

"They are killers at the core!" Kotori* hissed, he, along with six of the strongest males in the tribe stood at the feet of the chief. "They cannot be trusted!" the markings of war painted across their faces. The moon light danced along their bodies.

"This is what we feared." Chief Kwahu* sighed. Standing up, he looked as regal as any English king. Feathers adorned his headdress, bones as trophies to prove he was above all others.

"The pale-faces are demons, all they feel is greed." Koroti said,

"I wonder if they even bleed..." there was a murmur of agreement as the warriors held tight onto weapons of many kinds, ready to beat the drums of war against the evil creatures that invaded the lands.

"They have not harmed us yet Ahote*." Chief Kwahu said, watching the oldest of the warriors stiffen up.

"They killed Cheveyo*!" he hissed "They are not even human, they murder for sport!" the chief nodded. The men were fierce as the storm that raged outside. "They will kill again, one of the children or women!"

"We must capture one!" Ahote said, his grip on his bow was strong. "We must protect our tribe!" The wind made the small hut shake under it's power.

"The wind is strong, we cannot fight tonight." Kwahu said. A small hand peaked out of the entry, but none seemed to notice. "My children, you harbor far too much hate for these white men."

"They are not men, they are beasts." Ahote hissed, he turned and left, Kotori, Hania*, Kitchi*, and Makya* following soon after.

Young America watched them leave in fear and worry for his chief. He hid deeper into the shadows, the small doll clutched to his covered chest. They passed him with no knowledge he was there. He sighed in relief, from the inside, he heard his chief sigh in distress.

"C-C-Chief Kwahu..." he whispered, sticking his head into the warmth and light. In such light, his chief looked so young, as if just 20. He wasn't very old for a man of such power. Only 37.

"America..." he said, a smile adorned his face now, covering the hopeless look he had before. He held out his arms to the young boy. "Come my child." America ran into his waiting arms, feeling the warmth of the embrace. Tears dripped down his face. "Why do you cry America?" Kwahu asked.

"I-I saw them chief..." America sniffled, holding tightly onto his chief and onto the doll.

"Who did you see?"

"The pale-faces, I saw them in my dream... they were killing our horses and dogs. Then they killed our people..."

The chief held America close. "Hush ciqala*, it was only a dream." he said, but he held the child tighter, some of the women saw the new comers down by the river just nights ago, it seemed they came in the night and vanished in the day. They were dangerous creatures that kill with little to no remorse.

If they came any closer than the river... they would stumble upon the village. The children where forbidden to play along it. But America was often found staring at the other side from the branches of the tall trees.

"I heard you and the men speaking Chief Kwahu," America whispered, "They want to hurt the pale-faces." the chief sighed, so the child had heard?

"They worry for our people, for our land and our animals." He explained "These creatures are not human, they are prideful and evil."

America shook his head, "They are not like us, but they may not be evil." Kwahu looked at him, since when did a mere child become so wise? "They think they own whatever land they land on... that the Earth is just a dead thing to claim." he said, touching the white feather on his chief's headdress.

"America... they are savages, barley even human." he said, "We cannot allow them to destroy our land, we have to kill them." Kwahu said. He was the only person who knew America's secret, the young nation, the history and past of them all. "You are the land and the sky, my son." he once said to the young nation. "You are the rain and the trees, the wind and air we breath. You must survive at all costs."

America looked at him with eyes the color of the sky and the water. He placed a hand on Kwahu's face. "You must sleep now, you will understand one day." Kwahu said, America sighed, but nodded reluctantly. "You can sleep with me if you want." the young one climbed next to him by the fire. Kwahu covered him up with the skins and kissed his head. "Goodnight, my America." He said, within moments, the two where asleep.

_**So tell me what you think**_

_**Flames are welcome, just don't make it too bad**_

_**I promise the chapters will be longer, this was just a start. **_

_**Kotori- screech owl spirit- Cheyenne**_

_**Ahote- restless one- Hopi**_

_**Hania- Spirit warrior- Hopi**_

_**Kitchi- brave- Algonquian**_

_**Kwahu- eagle- Hopi**_

_**ciqala- young one- Dakota**_


	2. Chapter 2

**I think I am going to continue this. **

**I own nothing, except this sexy plot. **

**Enjoy my crap**

**-Devit-**

The woman struggled against their grips, but they got tighter. Men laughed at the woman. She screamed in a tongue they could not deceiver. The whole camp smelt strongly of beer and rum. She trashed in their grip. John laughed "Feisty little one we got tonight!" He said, laughing. He hit her over the head with his bottle.

Laughter filled the English camp. The woman had now stopped screaming. They didn't know the Natives where watching their every move.

Arthur Kirkland watched his men treat the native woman like dirt. He sighed, sipping his rum. He did not care for the native, they where savages and killers at best. Even the children killed for the hell of it. Stephen walked up to Arthur,

"Captain, what if the savages attack our camp?" He asked, Arthur sighed,

"What if they do?" He replied with deep indifference.

"They'll kill us, the others seem to believe we know this land." Stephen hissed "Captain, they know this land better than we do, they are killers without remorse!"

Arthur nodded, "Yes... savages, this is our land now, correct." He stood up, "Kill if you see them, they are too many of these red skinned demons here anyway." Stephen nodded.

Stephen ran to tell the others, who in turn had began chanting the cursed word "Savages, savages!" Like the cries of men in battle, not those too drunk to stand correctly. "Dirty red skinned devils!" Arthur watched his men chant those very words. Each Native they met was imminently killed, without any reasoning, just fear that they would call in reinforcement.

Three of the natives watched the men. Holding tightly to the blades and weapons that would prove none effective to the guns the Englishmen had.

"They have Kateri..." Ahote whispered, "Those beasts!"

"Savages, they think they own this Earth!" Matck said. These monsters drank and were merry about Kateri's capture, they removed her innocence, then killed her.

Ahote covered the youngest warrior's face, Nahuel, "Don't look, it will remain forever." Nahuel nodded, shaking as the Englishmen snapped the girl's neck, laughing as if it was a joke to them. But one of the pale-faces just watched, indifference covered his stern face.

The Natives watched in utter hate. Shiriki held tight to Nahuel and the bow. They feared being caught, but there was one who did not fear it, one who no one even knew was there.

America sat up in the trees, watching silently as the pale-faces sang and drank and dance to their victories of the week. Some drank to their sorrows of leaving a world called "England" The wind blew his hair into his face.

"We shall call this new world... New England!" One of the pale-faces yelled, holding up a cup made of clear glass.

"New England?" The man who showed no emotion said. He looked to be the leader.

"Captain Kirkland?!" one hissed.  
"We will call this land the New World until we figure out something suitable." He hissed.

"Captain..." America whispered, he liked the sound of that, though he didn't know what it truly meant. The man who dressed in red with gold and blue stood like a king. That must be the equivalent to his chief.

"We must tell Chief Kwahu," Ahote hissed "We must fight, they killed Kateri..." the others nodded, Nahuel stayed hidden behind Tocho.

"He will not believe with that young fool child!" Shiriki said, "The child believes in peace between our people and those devils!"

America snarled, he was the hero! He would make sure there was peace, he just hoped it was not too late.


	3. Chapter 3-sorry for the crap

**I'm going to try to make these chapters long for you all**

**I own nothing**

**Except this sexy plot. **

**Enjoy my crap!  
-Devit-**

**_REWRITTEN CAUSE IT WAS CRAPPY_**

**Also, Cheveyo- Hop name meaning Spirit warrior. There is no reason I have so many Hopi names, just found some that I thought worked for the characters themselves. **

**Okay... well, sorry for my crap. **

**-Devit-**

England stayed awake that night in his sleeping quarters of the ship. For once since arriving to the new world, he couldn't sleep, even the rocking of the sea couldn't put his to rest. A heavy storm raged on into the night. Though he refused to admit it to his men, he worried for the natives that lived out there.

The rocking of the ship had finally gotten to him, he stood up and left his room, blowing out the candle before closing and locking the wooden door. He walked the passages of the ship. There were few voices that traveled down the dark corridors, but the few that did exist spoke of the same thing, the Revenge of the Natives for stealing land they owned for hundreds of years.

He sighed and made his way to the land, they had to boat docked so they could get off onto the New Land when need be. Which seemed to be exactly what England needed. He stepped off onto damp Earth, the wind blowing his hair every which way. The trees shook under the great blows.

But the Englishman didn't seem to truly care about the wind or the inevitable rain that would reek havoc. His men usually accompanied him during his exploration of the land, but he wanted to enjoy the silence. It was a rare moment when even nature dared not make a sound to interrupt the night.

After the silence was the faint beating of drums, he put a slender hand on a tree. The smell of a fire filled his nostrils. _Why have a bonfire in weather such as this? _He thought. The sound of the pounding drums made his head hurt just a bit. He stood up straight, forgetting his dignity for a moment and continued on his exploration.

After time, the wind began to pick up, the beating of the drums continued though. A wolf howled from not to far away, he looked around him. "The new world is a strange place..." he whispered, he saw flowers bent and broken on the wet ground.

He heard the most peculiar thing while walking, to the beat of the drums and it's own, was the smallest voice.

"They don't believe me..." he stopped walking to listen. Something hit the tree he was hiding behind. "No one believes me..." England listened closely, it sounded like a child...

"I didn't bring any children... it must be native..."

"Yiska*" the child sighed, it's voice was too high for a males, too low for a female's. "Someday I'm going to..." England heard the sound of crunching leaves, "I'm going to... be a hero to our people."

England got just a bit closer, another rock his the tree, inches away from his face. His beautiful green eyes grew wide, that kid had a superb aim. The child hit it's little fists on a rock, it broke under him.

The child grabbed a hold of one of the lower branches of the tree that the Englishman was currently hiding behind and used bare feet to climb up. But the crack of branches could not be heard. He looked up to see the weirdest native he had ever seen... and he had seen plenty. The child was smaller than he sounded, he had thick waving blonde hair. He stared in awe, "I thought they all had that ebony hair..." He whispered.

The blonde boy stared up at the sky. A small necklace of teeth rest on his ankle, blue and green beads around it, he was quiet tan, but that was to be expected for the heathens did live out in the brutal sun and heat.

England pushed himself deeper into a large bush beside the tree, praying this child wouldn't notice. The boy smiled at the moon covered by dark rain filled clouds. He heard him sigh. "I'm the hero...right Yiska?" he asked, there was a bark, Arthur looked at the small field and saw a large black dog, it whined at the loss of it's 'master'.

"Calm down Yiska... I'm here..." The child said. The dog whined again and scratched at the tree's bark, then it's head shot up. It sniffed at the air around England, he stood ridged still. Praying to God that the creature...Yiska... didn't find him, the boy would tell his chief or whatever they called it that he was there.

The blond child jumped down with a soft thud, the jewelery on his ankle jingled as teeth his beads. He looked England's way... the older man felt sweat and rain drip down his face. His heart beat was loud in his ears.

The child set a small hand on the tree, England could see it shaking, the black dog barked once more, and the child took his hand away. "There is nothing there." he whispered, England watched.

England was confused...

He didn't want to give the blonde native the chance to discover him, as quietly as he came, he slipped away.

What he didn't hear was the light footsteps that followed him.

England made his way back to the ship, his hand in his blonde hair, he heard the crunching sound of a branch behind him, he spun around, seeing a large black dog in his path.

His eyes grew wide as the dog growled, bearing it's sharp teeth. England stared at it, his mouth ajar. His felt ice cold from deep in his bones. The dog started to walk slowly around, closing in on the blonde Englishman.

**I know this is too short, but you would be surprised how much crap I got piled up now...**

**So.. I'M SORRY THAT THIS SUCKS!**


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